Fragmented Time
by AkoyaMizuno
Summary: A series of unrelated drabbles staring Shinichi and Kaito. MaleMale pairing. 10: Shinichi rather liked this magic trick.
1. Sight Unseen

**A/N:** This is a set of unrelated drabbles that I wrote for an LJ community that has since been deleted. I never really intended to post these as there is a certain stigma against writing male-male non-canon pairings and I already have one such fic. However, I find myself wanting to have these somewhere other than my own hard drive, and if people have issues with my pairing Shinichi and Kaito they can simply chose not to read. On the other hand if you are open minded then feel free to read on.

The LJ community was based on writing fanfiction for a male-male pairing of your choice based on 17 different song fragments. Though I did not complete the challenge before the community was deleted, I did manage to write four drabbles that I am now posting here.

Title: Sight Unseen

Based on fragment 12: "And how can I stand here with you and not be moved by you?" - Lifehouse, 'Everything'

* * *

The force of the wind was something to be reckoned with that evening, threatening to remove his top hat despite the hand that currently held onto it.

More importantly the wind was sending his cape spiraling out as if it weighed nothing at all. It was an unexpected problem, one that rendered his glider useless, and left him debating an alternative escape route. Unfortunately the routes that he had planned as backups were unavailable due to a more than usually competent security job by the police and by the movements of a particularly tenacious detective.

A slight smile made its way onto his face at the thought of the detective in question. _Well, he's definitely made my life difficult this time._

A bang from a closing door and the thumping of a pair of feet informed the magician that his life was about to be made even more difficult. _One . . . Two . . . _

"Kid!"

_Three._ Kaitou Kid turned to face his favorite detective, cheeky comment ready to be delivered, before stopping to stare. Though he had been aware of his opponent's presence, not to mention the effect he had, the phantom thief had not actually _seen_ the detective that evening. And he certainly was a sight to see.

For the first time ever Kudou Shinichi was standing before him. Well, technically speaking Kudou had stood before him like this on countless occasions before. But this . . . this was actually _Kudou Shinichi_, the seventeen-year-old famous detective, not the seven-year-old version with the fake name of Edogawa Conan.

Kudou was taking in Kid's shock with a smirk, "Now we're on even footing."

Kid finally got himself together enough to give Kudou what was, for once, a completely genuine smile rather than a smirk or a grin. "I like the make-over, tantei-kun. It suits you."

And it did at that. Kid had seen pictures of his fellow famous teenager, and had even disguised himself as the detective more than a few times, but it was still definitely something to see the real thing. Blue eyes were gazing at him triumphantly, the same challenge written there that Kid had seen in the eyes of Edogawa Conan.

Somehow it was more satisfying to see it in the eyes of Kudou Shinichi.

The two stood there in silence for a moment, while the wind howled around them.

Kudou spoke first, "It's too windy for you to use your glider. I'm the only other person up here so there is no way for you to slip away disguised. And all the escape routes are covered. Not even you can get away this time, Kaitou Kid-san."

He probably should have been trying to figure a way out of this, or at the very least he should have been panicking. For some reason unknown to the phantom thief he was doing neither. Instead he was staring at Kudou like he'd never seen him before. _Which is true in an odd sort of way._

It occurred to Kid that the fact that Kudou was standing here most likely meant that he'd won whatever battle had kept the detective in hiding. _Congratulations, tantei-kun. It's good to know it can be done._

For a moment more Kid simply stood there, taking in the image of the long missing Kudou Shinichi. Idly he noted that Kudou was a good looking guy before wondering if that counted as narcissism given how much the two of them looked alike. _Probably not since we are different people._

His silence was evidently unnerving his company, as the smirk Kudou was wearing looked slightly less certain.

Kid abruptly closed the distance between the two of them.

"What . . . " the detective managed, face to face with the infamous thief, the white cape belonging to the latter twirling around them in a mad dance.

Kid looked into the surprised blue eyes of the young man who looked so very much like him and gave into an urge he hadn't even been aware he'd had.

He kissed him.

It wasn't a very thorough kiss, or even a very long one. But it brought up a heat that had Kid pulling back, stunned by his reaction.

Kudou was staring at him, red in the face and every inch of him reading total shock.

Kid somehow managed to smirk at him, despite the way his body was telling him to grab Kudou and pull him close. "There is always a way out. After all, I am a magician." With that he removed a bottle from where it had been hidden away and sprayed the detective with it, making sure to cover his own mouth.

The phantom thief caught his now unconscious companion as he slumped over and carefully laid him on the roof.

"My apologies, tantei-kun," he murmured, quickly changing his own appearance to match that of the detective.

Ready to leave, Kid pulled open the rooftop door before hesitating slightly. Pulling out a rose and jotting down a quick note, he attached both the rose and the note to Kudou's jacket.

Getting out of the building had been surprisingly easy. Nakamori had grabbed his face to make sure that he wasn't Kid in disguise -thank goodness he looked enough like Kudou to not need a mask - but after that the police had simply listened to his explanation of how Kid got away and let him move along on his business.

It was funny how readily they had accepted his less than impressive explanation. 'He disappeared in a cloud of pink smoke' really wasn't something that ought to have worked, though he supposed he'd been pulling tricks like that for long enough that they would accept just about anything.

_I just hope that no one discovers tantei-kun. I'll be in major trouble if they realize how much I look like him._

His best hope was that the detective wouldn't wake up until after the police had left. _Though given the dosage of sleeping gas I doused him in, that's fairly likely._

_Tantei-kun . . . _Kaito's face heated up at the thought of what else had gone on that night. _I can't believe I kissed him._

But he couldn't deny the truth of what had happened, and he couldn't ignore his own reaction to it either.

_Oh man. I am so screwed._

Kuroba Kaito, the young man behind the monocle, the disguises, and the magic that was Kaitou Kid, made his way home, the whole time wondering if he'd ever again be able to stand next to Kudou Shinichi without wanting to kiss him.


	2. The Truth He Knew

Title: The Truth He Knew

Based on fragment 9: "It's a beautiful lie / It's the perfect denial / Such a beautiful lie to believe in." – 30 Seconds To Mars, 'A Beautiful Lie'

* * *

He didn't love him. Couldn't love him. Forget that he was another guy, forget that he was a thief to boot: he shouldn't love him - because he loved Ran.

But that first kiss . . . that first kiss might yet spell doom for the carefully crafted lie. It had brought with it too many questions, too many uncertainties.

Not that he _didn't_ love Ran. He certainly did. It was just . . . different than what he felt for the white-clad phantom. With Ran it was soft and comfortable, easy friendship meeting with hesitant feelings. Not so with jewel stealing magician, with him it was intoxicating and challenging, two equals testings the depths of everything they were.

It was better, easier to love Ran. She was hearth and home with children a sparkle in the future. And he was meant to be with her, or so he'd always been told. So he'd always believed.

So he still believed, when he remembered that he did.

Yet it was hard to remember that in those moments under the moonlight. Impossible to remember when warm lips met his in a fervent dance that was nothing at all like the gentle, uncertain kisses Ran occasionally granted him.

There was _fire_ there, and because there was he could tell himself that it was nothing more than lust. Nothing more than an odd twist in the already convoluted relationship he had with the thief.

Love was not a concept he would entertain when it came to this.

Lust was something he could get past, it would burn out like a candle in the night. In the end dawn would come and he would go back to Ran a little more knowledgeable of the world, of himself and of her true value to him.

And, in the meantime, if the thief continued to steal kisses that burned, what could he really do about it? Kaitou Kid was, after all, the best thief there was.

Therefore, when once again he found himself scooped up in the arms of a blue-eyed man wearing a monocle, Shinichi told him the truth that he knew. It was lust, not love and he thought it was only fair that he let the thief know as much.

"Is that so," Kid murmured, laughter shining in his eyes before he leaned over for a playful kiss.

And Shinichi couldn't help but think that those eyes were laughing at him.


	3. A Form of Torture

Title: A Form of Torture

Based on fragment 17: "I didn't want to hurt you, but you're pretty when you cry." – VAST, 'Pretty When You Cry'

* * *

No one ever claimed that Kudou Shinichi could sing. In fact, most people who'd ever heard the detective try would tell you to run in the other direction if he started to do so. He had about as much musical talent as a rock.

Actually, that would be insulting the rock, but you get the idea.

But at least he _knew_ he couldn't sing.

Kuroba Kaito on the other hand. . .

_I could swear he's doing this on purpose,_ Shinichi thought, desperately trying to keep a straight face.

Somehow Kaito had gotten it into his head that serenading his partner would be an excellent idea. And Shinichi had to admit that the idea was a romantic one.

Or it would be if Kaito could sing.

Not that he really had room to talk, but he was fairly sure that the wailing that was currently issuing forth from the magician couldn't be considered 'singing' by even the most generous of standards.

Even the self-admittedly tone deaf detective could tell that Kaito was off-key, off-beat, and just about off everything else.

It was enough to bring tears of pain to a persons eyes.

As Kaito finished off the song, Shinichi drew a shaky breath. _Thank god that's over._

"How was it?" Kaito asked, practically bouncing over, a grin a mile wide on his face.

Shinichi looked into the sparkling eyes and plastered a smile on his face. "It was . . . unique." He couldn't quite manage to say it was good. He just wasn't _that_ skilled of a liar.

Kaito did a little twirl of happiness before leaning close, "Would you like an encore?"

_No!!!_

"Er . . . I'm sorry, I'm going to be late for a meeting with a client, so I really need to go."

"Oh," Kaito pouted a little, "okay."

Shinichi gave him an apologetic smile, and a peck on the lips before dashing out of the room.

Kaito watched him leave before grinning manically to himself. That had been well beyond amusing. _The look on his face . . ._ The magician cackled slightly.

It was just way too much fun to torture Shinichi. There was something about the way the detective twitched that brought a forth a sadistic sort of glee.

Not that he _wanted_ to cause the love of his life pain, but . . .

Who was he kidding? That was exactly what he'd wanted to do. It was fun, dammit.

Besides, Shinichi was kind of sexy when that anguished look was in his eyes.

_Ah well, I should get ready for my heist tonight._

With that thought Kaito went about his business singing softly to himself, this time perfectly in tune.


	4. Hello and Goodbye

Title: Hello and Goodbye

Based on fragment 14: "Could have been forever / Now we have reached the end." – Within Temptation, 'Angels'

* * *

The explosion was the last thing I expected.

There was absolutely no warning, no indication that anything was amiss as I ran after Kaitou Kid, intent only on catching up and winning this round of our ongoing game.

Apparently someone else had different plans.

The blast rocked the entire building, causing debris to fly everywhere and sending me reeling backwards.

I was only vaguely aware of hitting my head, the blow knocking me unconscious.

Someone is screaming at me.

"Tantei-kun! Come on! Wake up, tantei-kun!" There is panic in that voice.

As I drift back into consciousness I become aware of the horrendous pain that seems to be coming from everywhere at once.

"Tantei-kun!!!"

_Kid?_ From some unknown reserve I find the energy to open my eyes a crack to find that, yes, the voice is that of the mysterious phantom thief who'd been haunting my dreams lately. I make a horrible sound somewhere between a gurgle and a grunt.

"Don't try to move," he warns me, relief evident in his voice, even as I become aware of the gloved hands that are attempting to provide some modicum of emergency care.

There must be a question in my eyes, because he answers what I want to know with his next sentence.

"A small pile of debris fell on you after you were knocked out. I'm doing what I can, but we're cut off from everyone."

An attempt to nod my understanding results in a new rush of anguish.

"What did I say about moving?" he teases, but there is an edge in his tone. "Don't worry, we can get through this. We flew a plane together, right?"

With that he begins to chatter away about our previous encounters, about his past heists, about just about anything that comes to his mind. I try to focus on his voice, but as the minutes pass I'm floating dangerously close to unconsciousness.

Kid must have noticed, because he grips my shoulder. "Stay with me," he demands. "You have to stay awake, understand?"

I make some non-committal noise that he doesn't find satisfactory.

"You'll _die _if you don't stay awake! And you aren't allowed to die," he says venomously. "You hear me, Shinichi? _You are __**not**__ allowed to die on me_."

Despite his protests we both know that it would take more than a small miracle for this to go any way other than one. Too much time has passed, and I have bleed too much. I give him a weak smile. It's fake, but it's the best I can do.

"Kid." My voice comes out as a choked hiss, but I need to say this. "I . . . I think I could have . . ." I trail off with a gasp of pain.

There is a long moment of silence.

"I know," he replies, his voice muffled. "Me too."

He is looking at me with the oddest expression on his face.

"Kuroba Kaito," he murmurs.

_Huh?_ My breathing is harsh in the silence.

He removes the monocle and his top hat. "My name is Kuroba Kaito. Good to meet you, Kudou Shinichi, meitantei-san."

I'm starting to slip. I can feel it. But before I slip into darkness the last thing I hear is his voice.

"And goodbye."


	5. Stay

**A/N:** Got inspired. Wrote this.

Title: Stay

Loosely based on fragment 13: "I would like to linger here in silence / If I choose to would you try to understand?" – Sarah McLachlan, 'Elsewhere'

* * *

He sat precariously in the window, one leg tucked up, the other dangling loosely in the air outside. The sky he was staring at was a velvety shade of navy, which faded to shades of blue in the east. On the desk a pair of glasses too large for the face that wore them lay abandoned, unneeded and unwanted for the time being.

A clock could be heard softly clicking along to the natural sounds of a city in the truly early hours of the morning when the sun has only begun to think about rising. The world was quiet except for those sounds and his breathing.

The clothing he wore was ruffled, the results of a long day and a longer night. Dark circles framed his eyes, and his usually kempt hair stuck out in odd directions. The thought of going to bed had been twirling around in his mind for hours, though somehow he had never quite gotten up the energy to move from his perch. His little body would suffer for it later.

Somewhere upstairs the famous Sleeping Detective had finally collapsed into a restless slumber. Also upstairs lay the empty bed of the teenage girl who not here.

Who would never be here again.

He hadn't cried yet, and he refused to let out the rage that lay hidden somewhere inside of him. For now he did not dare to disturb the silence that the world seemed to have made just for her.

When the shadow moved, and the muffled sound of feet joined the clock in disturbing the silence, he did not bother to look towards it. Somehow he knew who it was that was walking towards him. There was only one person it could be anyway.

A gloved hand pushed aside the adjacent windowpane, and a white-clad body leaned on the windowsill. The newcomer did not look out into the night, but instead directed his gaze at the boy who sat refusing to acknowledge his presence.

The tableau remained unchanged while the clock ticked away one minute, two, ten. Finally the young man in white shook his head and turned to leave.

A small hand reached out and grabbed a piece of the cape that was the same shade of white as the suit worn by the owner. The man ceased moving, merely turning his head to look at the other through his monocle.

_Stay_, the boy mouthed silently.

The young man nodded and returned to his previous position.

And the clock ticked away, the only thing in the room that dared disturb the silence.


	6. Therapy

A/N: Lost the list of quotes these things are supposed to be based on. I find I don't care. I doubt you do either.

Title: Therapy

* * *

Kaito wasn't a soccer fan. Not really, and certainly not in comparison to other people. But he had to admit, there was a certain therapeutic quality to kicking around the soccer ball like it had murdered someone.

_No, don't go there. You don't want to think about murders. You don't want to think about death or the dead at all._

Okay, so there was a certain therapeutic quality to kicking around the soccer ball that had nothing at all to do with murders or death. Right.

He wasn't thinking about murders or death. And he certainly wasn't going to think about the owner of the soccer ball he was kicking around, or why the soccer ball was no longer in that person's possession.

It was late. Really, really late. But he was out late on a pretty regular basis. Late was okay. Though he was normally running from the police or from certain detec…

Alright. Detectives were also added to the list of things to _not_ think about.

Being Kaito though he had to think about something. And the something that came to mind was how weird he must look right now.

A teenager kicking a soccer ball late at night isn't particularly weird, a bit strange perhaps, but not overwhelmingly weird.

_Kaitou Kid_ kicking a soccer ball around a rooftop however probably managed to land firmly in the weird category.

Not that there was anyone around to see. And the few people who had a vague chance of showing up and seeing would probably understand anyway. They wouldn't think he was weird. Not after . . .

_Argh. Not going there . . . I'm not going to think about . . ._

But it was too late. The thought was already there, already formed in his mind. Well, to call it a thought was inaccurate. Memory was a better name for it. The memory of how his eyes went wide, how his body pitched forward, how the blood had gone everywhere as the bullet pierced through its target.

Kaito shook his head, desperately trying to dislodge the memory, hoping he wouldn't be sick. _Hah! Now wouldn't that be a sight? Kaitou Kid getting sick all over himself._

During his thoughts the soccer ball had come to a rest against his foot. Kaito looked down at it, trying to place it, trying to remember who . . . Ah. Right.

The soccer ball . . . Edogawa Conan's . . . No.

Kudo Shinichi's soccer ball.

Kaito supposed it was his now.

After all, the dead couldn't play soccer.


	7. The Story

**A/N: **Sometimes I really wish I knew where these things came from.

* * *

There was a book he wanted. Conan wasn't entirely sure what that book was, but he was sure that he'd know it when he found it. 

He'd already gone through the Kudo library and come up with nothing. He'd checked the local public libraries with no result. He'd even gone through the eclectic assortment of books belonging to Mouri's only to come up similarly short-handed. He was down to trawling through bookstores and their associated websites in the hopes of finding it.

It would help immensely if he knew what he was looking for.

Of course the whole process would be made infinitely easier if he didn't look like a seven year old. People just didn't appreciate seven year olds looking through any section other than the kids one.

Like right now for instance. The other customers in the store were giving him very strange looks as he browsed through the self-help section. Not that he thought that what he was looking for would be there, but it would be a lot easier to look if people weren't continually suggesting that he was in the wrong section, and would he perhaps like to see the early readers chapter books? Ugh.

Almost as annoying were the ones who offered to help him find "whatever book you are getting for your mom or dad." What was he even supposed to say to that? It had taken a while but he finally settled on "I'm looking for a gift." Of course, that came with it's own host of problems when people started making excited suggestions. _That_ he was generally managing to stop by replying that he really wanted to pick it out on his own.

He had paused at a book on behavioural-cognitive therapy as a treatment for depression when yet another person approached him.

"What are you looking for?"

Startled, Conan looked up to find a cheerful teenage girl smiling down at him. "Um... I'm not sure," he found himself answering. "There's something I want to read, but I don't really know what it is."

Instead of giving him the strange look he'd expected the girl seemed to consider his problem. "Maybe it's not written yet," she offered.

"Huh?" Conan replied, confused by this answer.

The girl merely smiled at him and walked away.

* * *

It wasn't until later that night that Conan realized just who that teenage girl had been. He wouldn't have realized it at all, except for an odd package left for him by an illustrious phantom thief. 

In the package was a simple black journal and a high quality pen. There was also a note, complete with the trademark drawing.

_Because sometimes the story you want to read doesn't exist yet . . . it's waiting for you to write it._

Edogawa Conan stared at the package for a long time before deciding that Kaitou Kid was a very, very strange person.

But he was smiling when he thought it.


	8. Clinical Detachment

**A/N: **Another one for you. At least no one dies this time...er, no actual characters anyway. Not very good, but I offer it up as a sacrifice to the ravening hordes anyway (or at least to the ten or so people who are probably actually reading these)

Title: Clinical Detachment

* * *

Kudo Shinichi, Kaito mused, was the definition of clinical detachment. 

All night Kaito had tracked the detective's movements. Had watched the gears spinning behind those calculating blue eyes, trying to work it all out.

Kaito was dealing with the murder surprisingly well. Watching Shinichi helped - it provided a good distraction - and so far he had been able to control the urge to throw up, though it had been a near thing when he saw the corpse. But the fact was that he was _dealing_ with it. Shinichi looked as if it hadn't even registered as anything other than a mystery to solve. It was like the scene had been taken in, dealt with and neatly filed away in that brain of his.

How that was possible when there was a headless body on the floor, Kaito didn't know.

The only emotion that Kaito could really see in the teenage detective was anger. But it was a tightly controlled, deep seated anger. Shinichi was too busy solving the murder for much else.

By the time it was all said and done, with the murderer caught and everyone being sent home - the Kaitou Kid heist having been entirely forgotten about in the process - Shinichi did, at least, look tired. He was human after all.

And so Kaito found himself following the detective home. He wasn't entirely sure why he was following one his rivals home, except for some vague sense of wanting to make sure he _got_ home.

That, and a nagging feeling that something wasn't quite right. Kaito had been watching, and he could have sworn that as Shinichi was leaving he saw the detective's hands shaking.

Therefore he continued his watching as Shinichi unlocked his front door and stepped in, leaving the door open. _An invitation?_ It was a risky thing to do, but Kaito was . . . well, he was Kaito, even in the guise of Kid. So he took the invitation.

He found Shinichi making tea in the kitchen.

"I'm sorry that your heist was interrupted by that," Shinichi murmured, almost too softly to be heard.

Kaito stared at the detective in surprise, "Hardly your fault, tantei-kun."

"Ah, is that so? I wonder sometimes . . ."

It was a stupid move on his part, but the tone in Shinichi's voice made Kaito reach out and forcefully turn the detective around. "And just how is some guy deciding to kill someone supposed to be your fault?" He asked harshly.

Shinichi's eyes went wide for a moment before he looked away. "Sorry, don't mind me. Just the bodies . . . the people . . . they add up sometimes and I . . ." He was shaking and beginning to hyperventilate.

Kaito did the only thing that occurred to him and gathered Shinichi in his arms. The two sunk to the floor, Shinichi gasping for breath and Kaito murmuring nonsense bits of comfort as they rocked back and forth slightly.

It was terribly intimate, and it would change everything, but for the moment that didn't matter.

Shinichi needed him.


	9. Seeing Double

A/N: Wrote this pretty late at night. Hopefully there aren't any completely terrifying mistakes.

Title: Seeing Double

* * *

"Ngrh," Kudo Shinichi vocalized by way of greeting the day.

"Good morning, sunshine!" called a too-chipper voice. The owner of said voice bounced over and landed on top of Shinichi's stomach. _At least his legs landed on either side of me_.

"Kaito. What time is it?"

Kuroba Kaito grinned, not at all fazed by the lack of a warm response. "It's 1:35 pm, Mr. Great Detective. Which technically means that it isn't morning anymore, but no matter."

"What?" Shinichi would have sat up at this declaration, except there was a Kaito-shaped being sitting on him. "I slept that late?"

"Considering the time you got in last night it shouldn't be a surprise," Kaito replied seriously, the beginnings of a frown on his face.

Shinichi groaned, "Did I wake you up when I came in? I didn't mean to be out so late, but . . . "

"But there was a murder and you are a detective. Yes, I know how it goes. Don't worry about waking me, it's not something you can avoid. Thief reflexes and all. I'm more worried about you."

"Worried about me?" Shinichi repeated, mystified. "Why are you worried about me? I know the late nights are bad for me, but they don't happen very often."

"Shinichi," at the use of his name the man in question began to pay very close attention, "I look at you sometimes and it's like looking in a mirror. Except there _are_ differences. You hair is actually tidy and your features are sharper. And your eyes . . . Shinichi I don't like the difference in our eyes."

"Kaito, I don't understand what you are talking about."

Kaito idly traced Shinichi facial features, "I have more than my share of problems, but I still don't look like you do. You look . . . worn out. Physically, mentally and emotionally. It's like I'm seeing double, one is the Shinichi you want me to see and other is the real you. And the real you is exhausted."

Shinichi stared at his partner, at a loss for words.

"Stop hiding and let me help, tantei-kun."

Closing his eyes, Shinichi nodded, not trusting himself to do more.

His eyes opened again as Kaito rearranged his position to one that was more provocative. "Um, Kaito? What are you doing?"

The smirk he got in response belonged solely to the phantom thief who was Kaito's alter ego.

"Helping," he murmured, before capturing Shinichi lips in a searing kiss.

A muffled "oh," was the best the detective could manage in response.


	10. Magic Trick

**A/N: **Hurrah! Apparently I am capable of writing fluff for these two! I was starting to wonder...

Inspired by two little children on the train on my way home.

Sorry for the lack of updates people, my internet has been dead for the last four days or so.

Title: Magic Trick

* * *

Shinichi watched Kaito's antics with a bemused half smile on his face. They'd been on the train to Osaka for nearly two hours now and the teenage magician had chosen to pass the time by amusing the five year old child of a young mother. Silly faces, funny magic and non-sense stories were the tricks of Kaito's trade. And both the child and Kaito seemed to be thoroughly enjoying themselves.

The mother had at first seemed a little wary of the odd teenager, but had soon relaxed and seemed to be grateful that she did not have to provide the entertainment for her child. Shinichi, meanwhile, was not sure if he should be amused or offended that a five year old was evidently more interesting than he was.

That was when the rain started.

First it was just a light shower, but soon it was an all-out downpour. Shinichi found himself grateful that he'd thought to bring an umbrella. However, being the detective he was it didn't take much for Shinichi to notice as the young mother's face grew more and more worried. It also wasn't difficult to determine that her worry was the rain.

As they disembarked the train Shinichi was about to offer the poor woman the use of his own umbrella when Kaito decided it was time for one last trick.

With a theatrical wave of his hand, Kaito caused a large colourful umbrella to appear from nowhere and promptly informed the five year old that it was a magical umbrella that chose its owner. The child's mother went quite red when it was declared the she had been chosen for this honour.

Detective and magician had waved off the mother and child from the safety of the train station before Shinichi decided to speak. "You just gave her your umbrella, didn't you?"

Kaito grinned at him, his eyes sparkling, "Yup."

"I suppose you want to share mine now."

"Wouldn't object," Kaito replied mischievously.

With an ever-suffering sigh, Shinichi opened his umbrella and pulled the magician close to him to keep them both safe from the rain.

"You know," Kaito began, snaking his arm through Shinichi's, "I think I rather like that magic trick."

Shinichi debated pushing him out into the rain for that remark, but decided against it. After all, he rather liked that magic trick too.


End file.
